Two Minute Noodles
by rookieD
Summary: (One shot) (Post 3.13). Even Gail Peck knows that sometimes you just need a really good friend. Warning: Femslash.


_A/N: I promised myself I'd finish up a few fics I've had floating about before s4 of Rookie Blue starts. This is one of them. I think I had a particular thought process in mind when I started it a month or so ago, but who even knows anymore!_

_Takes place some time shortly after 3.13_

**_Warning: Femslash ahead_**

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue._**

* * *

**Two minute noodles**

* * *

2 minute noodles, 2 glasses of unwooded Chardonnay, and 3 episodes of _Alias_ re-runs.

That's what has become of her Friday night off.

(Was last Thursday and Friday, in fact.)

Gail swishes some wine in her mouth, briefly considers whether it might be appropriate to start putting more effort into her life.

She puts the wine glass down on the coffee table. Puts her feet up right between where her two dinner items stand - black toenails threatening to gouge into the cheap tawny-colored pine that they both sit atop.

She stares at Jennifer Garner. Gail's mouth twitches of its own volition. She raises the fork prongs to her lips and puts some low level energy into wondering what it takes to lead a charmed kind of life.

After she's sucked in some 'authentic beef' noodle, she picks up her glass. Promotes a 'cheers' to the 26 inch screen that Affleck's Mrs is currently somersaulting across.

* * *

The screen of her cell lights up, a neon blue matching her mood of tonight. It dims the second Gail's eyes flicker over that way.

(She gave up assuming it was Nick three nights ago-

The same night Nash delivered her news; "I turned down the taskforce."

Gail was about as shocked as Swarek was that Andy and Nick had accepted Luke's offer instead:

That is to say -

Not much at all. The emotional response on Gail's end at least: moderate to extremely pissed off).

Not that she can really blame army-boy, though. After all, she _was_ going to France. Still -

That's not the only reason Gail wasn't thrown completely off kilter. She's relatively surprised GI joe lasted around these parts as long as he did.

She reaches one foot that extra few inches across the top of the table, slides the mobile within reach.

Doesn't pick it up with her paws until she sees Traci's name there.

Can I come over?

Gail likes that about Nash. No pleases or thankyous. No leading questions. No beating around the bush.

Bring wine - is Gail's immediate reply.

Not that Gail actually wants company, of course. She much prefers to be alone with her thoughts in times of regrouping. Would rather digest in solitary confinement than perform for the zoo.

Nash is no monkey though, that's one thing Gail has learned this year. Already she senses her co-rookie could be a... friend. Someone, God forbid, she might even trust.

Might.

* * *

Traci's there before Gail's bottle is dry. Only just though-

Makes it through the door of Gail's apartment by the skin of her teeth.

She twists her mouth, raises an eyebrow. Peers at the two bottles Traci pulls out of a bag. "You didn't bring white?"

Nash shakes her head, walks to the kitchen casual as you please and helps herself to locating a glass. "Can't be assed walking back and forth to the fridge."

Gail blinks, wonders why she didn't think of that.

(Another thing she likes about Traci; she's easy company. She figures Nash is used to doing everything for herself. There's this relaxed poise Traci has...

It makes Gail feel at home for once in her life).

"Leo with Dex?" Gail asks out of no place, surprised that she's already well aware of Traci's post-Barber rhythms. How jerry's 'widow' struggles with quiet in her house.

"Yeah. Mom's out of the city for a couple of days," she explains, perching herself alongside Gail on the couch. "And I've got a couple of early starts...it's just easier this way to get him to school." Traci takes a swill of the wine she's just poured, swallows some of her words.

Gail nods, eyes drifting back to the screen. "Movie?"

Traci shakes her head. Responds a little too flat; "Just keep watching your show."

Both women stare at the conundrum that Jennifer's alter ego is currently in while sipping some more at their wine.

* * *

"How was Swarek today?" Gail asks, flicking a few buttons to get to the next episode. It's more for noise sake than anything, she can already guess how Sam's mood might be.

Traci shrugs. "Same as yesterday, and the day before. Trying to pretend he's not on some sort mission."

Gail clucks her tongue and tilts her head sideways, watches a nice view of Jennifer kicking some villain's ass.

She catches a look on Nash in the process -

Traci is gazing into the pit of the screen unblinking, staring into the abyss like it might hold the answer to life.

Gail continues to watch her...friend..some concern tingling a part of her that she didn't know that she had. To the general outsider, it might appear that Traci is paying extra special attention to Sydney Bristow's latest hunt...

But even what with this recent debacle, Gail is still reasonably confident she has what it takes to detect activity that isn't quite right -

"Alright," Gail sighs after another very long minute of Nash's brown eyes whirl-pooling to places unknown. "Cards on the table." She taps at Traci's bare, boney ankle with one frigid toe. "You think your side kick's better than hers."

Nash turns her face slowly. She stares at Gail before she blinks heavy, once. "Did I ever tell you, you're the biggest freak I've ever known?" Traci's mouth stays open to level some other fond accusations at Gail. "I'm trying to mourn my dead fiancé over here." Still - one side of her mouth twitches up. "Heinous," Traci continues coolly. "That's what you are."

Gail parts her lips enough to highlight her full set of teeth. "Thanks," she replies, pleased with the reaction and the fact Nash is still giving her a WTF look. "Now, up," she demands. Takes a long swig of wine and then stands herself.

She sticks a pointy finger in the direction of the ceiling to indicate where she hopes (all of a sudden) that Traci's deceased betrothed may be. Quirks an eyebrow as she yanks hard at one of Nash's skinny forearms. "Bet my ass Barber would pay to see this."

Traci throws her head back, thick hair sweeping at her shoulders as she actually lets out a laugh -

The open mouth smile that it accompanies is about the prettiest thing that Gail's ever seen.

* * *

The two women face-off somewhere in the safe zone between the coffee table and television. They should have plenty of room to swing a few kicks Gail figures, but if they do manage to break something she could really care less.

To the contrary; Smashing something into tiny, sharp pieces is appealing, actually -

"Alright Traci Nash," Gail summons, before she feels any temptation to go ahead and just break. She yanks her sweater off and tosses it aside to the couch. "Show me what you've got."

Surprisingly, Traci doesn't deliberate. At all. Completely catches Gail off-guard when she lands a foot square in her ribs.

It's a soft one though; definitely designed not to hurt. And as quick as Nash's foot touched Gail, it was back flat on the floor.

"Nice," Gail drawls lightly. "Pity I missed the technique." She looks Nash up and down. Decides this might actually grow into some fun. "Now, show me."

* * *

Over the course of the next half an hour, Traci does proceed to show Gail -

The pair trading friendly fire by demonstrating what they think is the best way to get doors kicked in.

They cackle as they take turns in impersonating the Swarek method, both women admitting freely to not minding watching his ass every time he does it -

Then leave the jury out on whether McNally needs to know that.

When they're done with the kicks they're good at, they try a few a la Alias, mimicking the motions that are there on the screen.

Gail has flashbacks of tequila-fuelled dormitory parties and doing the limbo, only now it's about how high you can go. Which, for Gail -

Turns out to be not as high as she hoped.

On the other hand, Nash is proficient. Her hips are...flexible...and those lanky legs have sure got some stretch. "Is this some party trick you acquired post-natal?" Gail enquires, watching on impressed.

Nash swings a leg in the air and lets out another cute laugh. "I've been in training all my life to kick people's asses."

On that, Gail catches at Traci's ankle, keeps her hopping on one foot.

"Peck!" She huffs, confused and barely keeping her balance. "I'm gonna fall."

Nash's eyes go wide momentarily as Gail rubs her thumb over the bone on her ankle. She recovers quickly though, looks Gail in the eye -

And Gail doesn't even really know why she feels the need to kiss the woman she's known for over three years, she just -

Does.

She lets Nash's leg lower itself easy, allowing her to keep steady on two.

There's a few steps Gail needs to take to reach her, and she completes them without any thought.

One, two, three and Gail's right with her, her mouth reaching for Nash.

There's a deep, secret tight that unfurls inside Gail the minute their lips connect. A small part of her thinks it could be because there was no hesitation -

Nash kissed right back.

It's a good one too. Traci is definitely deft at this skill as well. It's like she's built for it with those soft, full lips of hers. She's a similar style to Gail, actually; bossy and demanding but keeping it neat with her tongue.

It's only when Gail feels Nash's hand run through the hair at the back of her skull that she thinks the kiss will go further -

She realizes Traci is holding her head in a spot to slow the kiss down...ease herself in a little deeper...really let their mouths go to work.

There's a softness to it that starts to crack Gail wide open; Nash may be bossy, but she's also tender.

Gail feels one warm hand on her jaw. She wants to open her eyes and watch what's making her feel, but she's concerned Nash might be watching her back -

Instead, she keeps her eyes shut, concentrates on the scent of melon that's mixed in with lingering sweat.

Gail rubs her hands up Nash's sides, careful and light with her fingers as she brushes at the curving shapes of hips and waist, and then all the way up.

They both pull back from the kiss when Gail strokes over one breast -

"I..." She bites her lip, no idea on any planet what she might say has happened to get them to this point.

The look on Traci's face tears at her; a desperate yearn that Gail thinks she might be able to empathise with. "Feels...feels...nice," she interjects, swallowing at shallow, short breaths. "Feels good."

Gail lifts both hands up then, gets them around Traci's head. She butts their faces as close as she can, gets their chests together too -

So close she can feel the fast thump of Nash's heart.

Traci runs one hand down the front of Gail's tank top, then runs it back up until it rests centre front of her chest. She looks Gail straight in the eye, tells her crystal clear; "wanna keep feeling good."

Gail nods, clutches her hands tighter again into Nash's thick, warm locks. "Yeah. Me too."

It's Traci's eyes that flicker in the direction of the bedroom as she gives Gail a gentle nudge to point her that way.

Gail picks up the cue easy, runs a hand down to Nash's beltloops to tug her along.

The walk to the bedroom is about a quiet as Gail might've thought. Silence, breathing, and footsteps - both girls alone, and together, with each of those things.

Gail wonders whether she should break the silence; put some disclaimers in place. After all, it's what she normally does –

_One time thing; let's keep it easy, okay; no strings attached; friends with benefits_... to name but a few.

Putting things up front like that after all, means you'll get what you expect and deserve -

Nothing less, nothing more.

She opens her mouth to say something of the sort, but thinks better of it when she turns around to face Nash. It's the _look_ –

The look on Traci's face is...careful...

(For want of a better word).

It's a look that makes Gail suspect her friend remembers that one time when Gail made the drunken confession that she's been hurt one too many times...

Traci steps forward slowly, reassuring wide eyes that bore into Gail's. "Need you to know, Peck...no matter what happens between us...I never will _not _want to be your _friend_."

Gail's eyes drop for a second before she regains her composure, and takes another step closer herself. "Of course," she scoffs with as much weight as she can muster. "I mean. What would you do without me to keep you in check?"

Traci grins, shaking her head. She also manages to push Gail on the shoulders hard enough to have her falling backwards onto her bed.

Both women let out a light but loud laugh.

Before this moment, Gail thought they'd be slow and easy...a steady fuck that's soothing and curious, some kind of stimulant that's designed to prolong the feeling of 'good'.

But now Nash is determined. Quick fingers tugging at the few layers of clothing that both of them are wearing, and her mouth interjecting once in a while.

Gail lets herself get caught up in the momentum; helps get herself all the way naked before she sets out on Nash. She pauses a couple of times, completely breathless. They've set a fast pace, but that's not it –

Nash is _spectacular _–

This lean, muscular, curvy, soft goddess of some sort.

Gail sucks in some air, clucks her tongue to try and re-shut her mouth. It's not like she hasn't seen Traci shower and change in the locker room before, but here...

Here from this angle with all those curves rolling underneath Gail's hands –

It's different. Beautiful...

And smoking hot.

She reaches her mouth back down to Traci's neck on instinct, sucking a soft spot behind her ear. "Tell me what you want," saying it loud enough not to leave room for mistakes.

Traci tugs at Gail's hair to get a look at her face, grinning up at her as she pushes one thigh up, and in between both of Gail's.

Gail blinks her eyes shut for a few moments, finally lets her mouth drop and stay open as she pushes her hips forward and slides over the hard muscle of Nash's that is teasing her clit. "Fuck." Gail's breathing goes shaky, she's already way beyond wet.

She opens her eyes to see Nash staring up at her, pupils well over blown.

Gail quirks an eyebrow –

Mainly because it's her go-to M.O. in these sorts of situations. She also knows it's a pretty hot look.

She runs a hand down the other leg of Nash's...the one that's hooked near Gail's waist, locking her in. As she brings her fingers off Traci's calf, Gail flicks at her fingernails – checks that they haven't actually grown more than she thought.

(She wants to do some serious investigation of Nash is what she's up against, and she wants to do it with more than her mouth. With every response of Traci's, Gail is more and more determined to make her friend feel nothing but insanely good...)

Gail puts her hand at the vee of Nash, just gently, just wanting to test –

She loses a little bit more of herself when her fingers dip underneath Traci and come back soaking wet –

Gail runs two fingers down again, fascinated with how she's getting stickier and stickier herself every time she dips toward Nash. She might as well be teasing _herself_.

Well. She is in a way.

"Okay," Nash says shakily, grabbing at the hand Gail's got underneath her. "Okay…" She arches her back, practically lifting Gail clear off the bed with the leg she's straddling. "Gonna have to give me a bit more to work with there, Peck."

Gail licks her lips, her heart is thumping as she lets Traci guide two fingers in a long stroke up and all the way over her clit, and then back down until she's _inside _-

"Oh, Jesus. Trace…" Gail stutters, the warm wet muscles of Nash clenching in tight, tight pulses around her fingers. She'd say more about the matter, but first of all, she wants to know if Nash is impressed –

"Is that…is that…okay?" Gail asks, finally, licking her lips as she watches Traci buck her hips up and down at a fairly quick pace. It's more than okay, and Gail knows it – the way Nash's nipples are aimed straight at her -

Still, Gail is beyond fascinated by now. She wants sounds and words as well as the visuals here –

"Yep, yeah, god yes…" Traci's groaning and nodding, completely unabashed, before much longer. Her whole body working with Gail's hand to go after what she wants.

Gail smiles, super pleased as she watches Nash cup one of her own breasts in a hand, while the other reaches for Gail.

The smirk is wiped off Gail's face pretty quick though, when the hand drops –

Nash's thumb landing straight on Gail's clit.

Gail lets out some sound that she thinks she may never have made before. It's this yearning thing; a brutal ache in the pit of her – the gap between Traci's thumb and thigh. It leaves Gail clenching with everything, desperate for air…or something like that.

She gives herself an inch off Nash's thigh, and then shoves her friends hand underneath –

(Briefly thought of getting her dildo out of the drawer, but decided she preferred the warm hand of Nash).

Traci keeps her fingers still as she gets there, demands Gail to "wait".

Gail frowns down, desperate. She's liking the view as Nash comes, but she needs something in that general vicinity all for herself –

Traci makes some _sound_ as she loses her completely, this guttural noise between gasps of air that turns Gail on some more. "Over," Nash huffs when she comes down from it. "Roll over, Peck."

The pair jostle positions for a nice minute, curves and bones mashing while Nash rolls Gail underneath her and starts working her way down.

Gail tips her head back and stares at the headboard, decides to get as demanding as Nash. "You gonna give me your mouth?" she chokes out, Traci's hands and tongue working their way down her body already, giving the clues.

"Mm-hmm," is the only response as Traci's face and fingers land between Gail's thighs.

Nash has done this a few times at least. That would be Gail's guess. The way she puts just the right amount of hard pressure on with the flat of her tongue is a dead giveaway. Another good thing: she doesn't pussy-foot around. Knows Gail is tetchy and in need of the release pretty quick.

It all feels stupidly good; Nash's hair tickling the inside of her thighs while she licks long, thick stripes up the centre of her. She teases with her fingers just enough to get Gail panting hard and shoving her hips in a downward direction, until she's all the way on –

(When she does this to herself she normally only uses one finger, and doesn't generally like it all the way in…but Nash is giving her two past her knuckles and…

They're filling a gap inside Gail.

It feels…right.)

And, it never has taken long for Gail to get what she wanted. Now is not much different to that. The only difference is that she prolongs the release for as long as she can –

The attention, the care, the heat that Nash is giving her:

Gail never wants it to end.

Only then the thought of _that_ is too much for her, and it's like her body is in synch with her brain –

Every single part of her closes up shop.

The tight clench over Nash is enough to trip her over the edge all by itself. She free-falls for a short while, nervous giggles at the orgasm as it moves on its way.

Nash is up on her knees looking down at her smiling when Gail re-opens her eyes.

Gail quirks up her brows for good measure, but she knows there's an almost smile on her face as well. "We're good in bed," Gail tells her friend, as cool and calm as she can.

Traci cackles, leaning in for a friendly kiss that gets them chest-to-chest.

Gail stretches her body lengthways as far as she can, fingertips on the headboard. "You've had too much to drink tonight," she informs Traci, real casual. "So, you'll be staying the night."

(She wants to fuck Nash again already, wants to do some other things that are being conjured up in her head. She also wants to just lay here and laugh with her, talk into the night. She even wants to wake up with her, surprisingly. The bread in her cupboard is probably stale, but maybe the cereal is alright -)

Traci puts her lips to Gail's ears. She can feel the easy smirk on her friends face as she mutters; "If you insist."

Gail holds back the smile that's forming on her own face –

For now.

* * *

_End._


End file.
